Memories
by Ebby Grise
Summary: a slight whatif set in first person of...someone. rated for a few swearwords and is kind of angsty cuz it has mentioning of death. there are hints of chrnoxrosette


Disclaimer: i dont own Chrno Crusade, even thoughi wish i did! sobs

Rath: idiot.

Memories

"Will you leave this place for a land far away where the reaches of human minds cannot reach?" a soft, feminine voice asked from out of the darkness. They spoke warmly, as if talking with someone precious.

I looked around, not seeing anything amidst the inky blackness that shrouded the speaker and their whereabouts. It was terrifying: hearing someone speaking without actually being able to look them in the eye; it was like a fairytale, of sorts. The innocent girl seduced by the melodic tone of someone unseen and slowly lured into the horrid trap hidden by sugary-sweet words and soft sounds.

Another voice, much more gruff but holding an emotion of its own that made my heart break, spoke. He sounded pained, like there was something eating him from the inside out. "I have to," he whispered, voice cracking with restrained emotion. "I…it's the only way to save her."

The darkness slowly faded away to a white-washed pastel background that looked like a park, in a way. Two figures, their clothes strange and foreign, stood arms length apart. The man had purple hair and white horns—how odd?—and the girl had slivery-lilac hair with nearly invisible angelic wings sporting from the torn and tattered back of her violet dress. The girl was crying softly, clutching the gaudy watch to her chest closely, but refused to look away from the man's piercing red eyes. He terrified me, yet I felt at home seeing his dark visage.

"What if…will we…" she paused, finally breaking eye-contact. "She's going to miss you terribly," she finally managed to choke out. She seemed so sadden to talk about some other woman, as if it were that stranger mourning this depressing departure and not she.

He looked away, towards my direction, but I doubt he saw me. "Yes." His fiery eyes seemed to see straight into my soul, and for a moment I felt as if he were really able to take in my appearance. "But she doesn't need me any more, no matter how much she says she does," he said, smiling a sad, lonely smile. He turned back to the girl. "Besides, she has you; should she ever need me—which I hope to God she wont—then we will, perhaps, meet again in the future."

The girl began to cry even more. She cried for someone who couldn't, someone who refused to know of the man's departure. "She's going to hate you."

"That is something I'm willing to risk for her health…"

Everything faded away into that inky darkness again. My heart lurched when the man's face was lost from my eyes forever, but the agonizing sobs of that girl remained in my head, ringing like hollow bells on a cold, winter morning. I almost felt compelled to reach out and try to hold onto the dismal image, but I knew it was only a dream—or perhaps a memory?

Another image came to view, the surrounding, just as faded, was that of a clinic room. A young woman with sunshine hair and bright blue eyes, now dimming from death, lay against the pristine white sheets. The same clock, the one the little girl from the other picture had held, was settled around her chest, slowly ticking. The most disturbing thing about this was, other than the idea that death was almost upon this poor girl, was that she looked just as I did.

The little girl from before with lilac-silver hair, sat at her side clutching onto the blonde's pale hand. She was crying again, her burgundy eyes were shimmering with tears. "Oh, don't go!" she pleaded, resting her head upon the blonde's hand. "We'll miss you terribly!" she wailed when the blond only offered a strained smile.

The dying girl looked so worn, so tired with life that she just couldn't go on. With a cough, she managed to speak: "You know, he's not coming back; so maybe, this is God's way of telling me not to hold onto false hopes and old memories." Her smile slid from her face and was replaced by a desolate look. "I'm not afraid of death, and if I die I might see I might see him again in another life time." She turned to the girl. "Maybe in that life time, we won't have to deal with all this crap of demons and life-limits and wars." She returned her gaze to the ceiling, unshed tears glimmering in her drained eyes.

The girl leaned forward. "Don't say that! If none of this had ever happened then…then I wouldn't have met you, Chrno, Joshua, or anyone else at this order! So, don't you say such a thing!" she cried, throwing her arms around my look-alike and sobbing into the cotton night-gown.

The blond sighed, patting the girl's head tiredly. Her eyes slowly dropped closed, concealing the pain she was going through. It was her time, I could tell, and the weeping girl refused to acknowledge it. I turned away, no longer able to watch the display. Why, why, couldn't everything fade away like before! Why?

"Goodbye, Azmaria," the blond whispered, "see you in another lifetime." And she died, the breath leaving her petite body and shutting down. The girl, called Azmaria, wailed so loud it reverberated throughout the whole room; and I'm sure people far away could hear the heart-broken sobs.

Everything faded again, a little to late because I had already seen my doppelganger's demise.

I woke, sweating and sobbing silently. It was in my room again, the quiet room where I dwelt. In the other room my little brother would be sleeping undisturbed. I got up from bed, throwing the covers off of my weary body, and intending to head to my sibling for the comfort that only he could provide me. I got to the door before a voice from my body and made me turn away.

It was the man! His purple hair framed his dark, chiseled face and reflected the moon, which shone outside my window. His red eyes, just as cryptic and lovely as in my dream, glowed with something I couldn't define. Wings, dark and black, stuck out from his bare shoulders; and horns sprouted from his temples and stuck outwards behind is long ears. He was terrifying in his ethereal beauty.

"Aren't you going to welcome me, Rosette?" he asked in a voice soft and soothing. He opened his arms, as if waiting for something, and it finally stuck me.

_Shit, he wants a hug! _was the only coherent thought coursing through my mind before the world faded away and I fainted.


End file.
